Don't call me Lord, call me Love
by Nimbuscloudable
Summary: Based on Mookie000's Ruler AU artwork. The kingdom of Nekoma prepares a festival to celebrate the one year anniversary of Kenma's coronation. While his royal court and magisters and guardians look forward to the revelry, Kenma is himself plagued by doubts as to his ability to rule and his growing feelings for one of his sworn guardians.
From the bustling waters of the Bastet Bay, local Viverrini fishing cats, trading merchants docking their boats, and visiting travelers from various kingdoms are all greeted by the sight of the towering alabaster towers of Nekoma castle. Seated atop Bast's hill—the acropolis of the feline kingdom—the magnificent palace sat above a flourishing mercantile realm, its spires streaming crimson and gold banners and ribbons into the wind. The colorful fabrics swaying in the breeze seemed to tease the very clouds in jovial anticipation of the upcoming festival—that which would celebrate the one-year anniversary of Ruler Kenma's coronation and continuing peace for the land.

Nekoma's streets and port were bustling with activity in preparation. All shops and vendors strung up decorations, merchants brought in heaps of extra stock and supplies, tourists milled about in keen anticipation for a chance to see Nekoma's beautiful young Ruler. Secretive, withdrawn… aside from his coronation, none of the common cats had chance to lay eyes on their lord outside of public events such as these, and so rumors flooded the streets exchanged between locals and visitors alike.

"He's said to be very beautiful… Pale gold fur that twinkles like moonlight!"

"I've heard he has a tail that trails behind him, more than six feet long!"

"I've heard tell he sings as well as any nightingale."

"His guardians are supposed to be quite a sight too… one of them's a panther, I think. Black and sleek."

"One's got lion's blood!"

Listening intently to every utterance were two slant-eyed visitors from Nohebi, their forked tongues flickering mischievously as they smiled. They too were much looking forward to the upcoming celebrations, for they above all wished to lay their gazes upon Nekoma's Ruler… and bestow unto him a gift from their serpentine liege, Daisho Suguru.

Inside the castle was a similar fervor as everyone from the Royal Court to the kitchen staff scurried about, the pitter patter of paws filling the air in every corridor. But none were more restless than Ruler Kenma himself, who kept fidgeting with his claws in the bedchamber while the tailor tested the fit of his new ceremonial robes.

"Lord Kenma, do please stop fidgeting," Magister Naoi sighed, his tail impatiently whipping side to side behind him. "A Ruler doesn't squirm about like a newborn kitten, he sits calm and regal like the lion—"

A loud ripping noise tore all their eyes toward Lev—one of Kenma's royal guardians—who had just managed to ruin his ceremonial cape with his brandished claws. Kuroo—Kenma's other guardian—was shaking his head beside him while being fitted for his own robes, and mumbled to the tailor.

"I said no tassels for Haiba…"

"Perhaps not like _this_ particular lion…" Magister Naoi frowned, ears drawing back and going flat against his hair.

While Lev's follies frequently served as the negative examples Naoi never asked for, they rather brought a smile to Kenma's lips and calmed him far more than any firm reminders of his esteemed status. Naoi's harsh advice usually agitated Kenma further, until the Magister was eventually shooed out of Kenma's presence by his prime guardian and lifelong friend, Kuroo.

"There's no time to prepare a new cloak before tomorrow…" the royal tailor mewled softly, staring down dismally at the tattered velvet at Lev's paws.

"Then I'll go without one," Kuroo offered, untying the ribbon at his throat and shrugging off the weighted fabric from his shoulders. "Since the guardians are meant to match…"

"Why do guardians even need cloaks anyway?" Lev asked tactlessly while bowing apologetically at the maid who cleared the fabric away. "We should look more like soldiers, shouldn't we? With the cloaks we look like every other fancy aristo _cat_ —"

"Lev." Kuroo growled in warning.

"They should be fine without them, right Naoi?" Kenma pressed.

"I doubt that Magister Nekomata would approve—"

"Magister Nekomata's never cared about formalities," Kuroo drawled, crossing his arms. "Or else he'd attend more than one out of every three _glarings_ … and he'd be here right now. Besides, our glorious Ruler is supposed to be the star of the show anyway; the plainer we look beside him, the better."

Magister Naoi bristled quietly before clearing his throat and relenting to the guardian's logic, granting reprieve to both Lev and to the frazzled royal tailor. Thankfully, there were no further issues in Kenma's fitting—the Ruler's new robes and spats fit him perfectly, no further adjustments necessary. The tailor and his assistants took their leave with Naoi following soon after to prepare for the evening arrival of Fukurodani's and Nohebi's royal convoy.

At last, Kenma could be left to himself in peace. As soon as Naoi was out of the door, he fell upon his bed with a light _fwump_ and burrowed himself partially into the covers. Since first light that day he had been pulled about this way and that for a dozen _glarings_ and consultations about the festival, and he had now only a couple of hours to himself before he would have to prepare for the evening banquet. A catnap was very much in order.

As their young Ruler sank comfortably into his mattress, Kuroo motioned silently to Lev with a nod of his head, and the younger guardian took his place outside the bedchamber door with a wink.

"O Ruler…" Kuroo sing-songed, kneeling beside Kenma's bed.

"I told you not to call me that when we're alone," Kenma grumbled into his blanket. "I hate it when you call me that."

"Sorry," Kuroo murmured softly. "Kenma."

"Kuro." Kenma answered.

"I know today's been tiring for you, but your fatigue is even making _me_ want to get some rest."

"That's not how the connection works—" Kenma started to complain, but then Kuroo was pouncing into the bed, crushing him with his weight as he took a long, slow stretch. "K-Kuro! Get off me!"

"But I'm tiiiired," Kuroo drawled, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

Kenma squirmed feebly against the larger cat, halfheartedly trying to push him off and away, debating whether or not he should make use of his royal status to command Kuroo to get off him. They used to do this as kittens—Kenma would refuse to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed in the high tower, and Kuroo would roll around on top of him to get him up. More than a few of those sessions had ended with Kuroo covered in minor scratches, but still grinning broadly since he usually managed to succeed in getting Kenma up afterward. Surely even Magister Nekomata would frown if he knew this behavior between them had persisted into adulthood—but Kenma had never cared about pleasing his council. He never wanted to be the Ruler in the first place.

"I don't wanna," he grumbled, and Kuroo lifted his weight off him, ears perking.

"I know you don't wanna get up but—"

"No," Kenma corrected. "I don't want to do the ceremony tomorrow."

"It's a little late to call it off now…"

"What's there to celebrate anyway? I've only been Ruler for one year, and it's not as if I've done anything special for the kingdom…"

Kuroo knew that wasn't the truth no matter what Kenma said. Kenma might never have his predecessor's strength in battle nor his confidence of character, but he had always been shrewd and perceptive, and that had always informed his actions to the better. Whenever Kenma and his royal council could not find common ground, whether it was in setting forth a decree or raising a tax or parleying with a neighboring kingdom… Kenma's instincts had always been in the right. _Kenma_ had insisted upon maintaining Nekoma's alliance with Fukurodani, even as his council advised caution in the wake of his predecessor's untimely demise. The Magisters mistrusted Ruler Akaashi—politically, he was a closed book. But Kuroo shared General Yaku's opinion: the owl kept the snake at bay.

There were plenty of other examples Kuroo could call to mind, but instead he got himself up to kneel at his liege's bedside. When they were kittens, Kuroo would always take Kenma's hand to comfort him, his own intentions pure and boyish. Now that they were grown and Kuroo's heart had grown complicated with unseemly thoughts and desires, they rarely touched as they used to.

"Kenma," Kuroo whispered on bended knee. "The first year of any reign can be tumultuous and full of difficulties… but you've not made a single mistake in your royal judgments to date. Sure, in your first year, you've won no wars, you've forged no new alliances, and your name invokes no fear in the hearts of your enemies."

"Kuro, that's not exactly—"

"But the kingdom _prospers._ No wars have begun, no existing alliances have been sundered, the treasury is full where your predecessor near emptied it. Trade is flourishing, and your subjects can fault you for nothing."

Their eyes met and Kenma felt a tightness growing in his chest. It happened sometimes, when Kuroo looked at him a certain way. Sometimes it was enough to pain him and make Kuroo worry, as if his guardian could feel his desperate longing across their bond—but of course, that wasn't how the connection worked.

"Get up, Kuro," Kenma whispered. "Don't kneel."

"Do you accept that there is cause for celebration?"

"I accept that I've successfully ended my first year on the throne with no _cat_ astrophic mishaps," Kenma sighed, his ears finally perking. "And that's…"

"To your credit." Kuroo smirked.

"All right, fine… Now let me get an hour's rest before the banquet."

"As my lord commands." Kuroo rose to join Lev outside the bedchamber doors, but he was stopped by the soft fur of Kenma's tail wrapping around his wrist, pulling at him softly.

"Stay here," Kenma commanded softly, before releasing Kuroo and laying his head down onto his pillows. He slept better when Kuroo was beside him—right beside him. Nothing else, _no one_ else would do.

"All right."

The banquet hall and grand ballroom of Nekoma palace weren't particularly lavish. Kenma had seen in his travels far grander spectacles of architecture and interior design, but what his palace lacked in fine detail it made up for in overall composition. No one room outshone another, no singular part embellished at the expense of the whole picture. In place of elaborate carved pillars or stained-glass windows, there was clean-cut marble and finely wrought gold, the patterns in the stone looping seamlessly from room to room.

In the banquet hall, Kenma sat at the head of a long dinner table, his royal guests seated on either side. Ruler Akaashi graced his left, hailing from their allied kingdom of Fukurodani, and Ruler Daishou graced his right, hailing from the neighboring kingdom of Nohebi. Nekoma and Nohebi kept a tenuous peace and inviting them for the celebrations had been by the wise advice of Kenma's council. Yet it exhausted Kenma merely to sit next to the snake for dinner, however little they conversed—the scaly man wouldn't stop leering at him. He was sure even Akaashi—even Kuroo—could sense his discomfort.

"I don't trust him," Kuroo grumbled, arms crossed where he stood.

The guardians stood removed from the banquet table, watching their lords and the other nobles dine and make merry. Bokuto was standing beside Kuroo and Lev, his feathers half quivering from excitement—he loved banquets and parties.

" _Whooo_ don't you trust?" Bokuto turned a raised eyebrow at Kuroo. "My Ruler Akaashi is—"

"I meant Daishou Suguru." Kuroo interrupted, scowling at the way the snake smiled at Kenma between bites. "He's fishy."

"I thought he was a snake?" Lev chimed in.

"Not the brightest little kitten, are you, Lev?" Bokuto laughed. "But Daishou came tonight without his guardians even—shouldn't that make him less of a threat?"

"That just makes him more suspicious. It's unlikely he would've come all this way completely without them—where are they really? Hiding somewhere and setting in place some fiendish plot?" Kuroo bared his fangs, growling. "I don't like it."

"Well he's only here for one night, so you won't have to worry about him for long." Lev said with a smile, scratching at his ears.

Kuroo looked at the younger guardian with wide eyes, ears perking.

"Where did you get information like that?"

"From my sister. Alisa."

It was so easy to forget, given Lev's shortcomings as a guardian, that his older sister was, in fact, an elegant lady of the royal court. She boasted over a dozen suitors vying for her hand, including the General Yaku and once including Daishou Suguru himself.

"Where is she anyway?"

"Oh, she didn't want to come tonight because Daishou would be here… he didn't react all that well to her rejection a while back, so she's laying low. But she'll be at the festival tomorrow, and she's already given me an earful for ripping my cloak for the procession."

"Cloaks are such a bizarre concept…" Bokuto mused, ruffling his feathers.

Kuroo hid a smirk behind his claws. Imagining Bokuto attempting to maneuver his wings around a curtain of heavy fabric was an amusing thought—he'd certainly look more like the idiot that he is.

"Ruler Akaashi could wear one. A half one draped over his shoulder. He can't fly anyway." Lev added innocently, and Kuroo had to whack him a good one before Bokuto got the chance.

"Lev! What am I always telling you?"

"To take my hairball medicine…?"

"Think before you speak!"

Bokuto was bristling, his plumes on edge, wings menacingly threatening to unfurl. Kuroo held out his hand to attempt to stay the owl,

"Calm down. Lev is basically a cub; he says things out of stupidity not malice. He meant nothing by it, put your damn wings away."

"One more word against my lord and the lion gets it," Bokuto warned with narrowed eyes, talons twitching.

From their seats at the table, Kenma and Akaashi watched their guardians carefully, unable to simply ignore the minor disturbance they were causing. Bokuto with half-extended wings wasn't easy to overlook. Several of the guests seated at the table were also caught avidly watching them.

"I apologize, lord Kenma. My guardian Bokuto is prone to frequent mood swings—"

"I rather think he was provoked. My guardian Lev is prone to saying whatever stupid thing occurs to his mind at any given time." Kenma gave a soft smile and a gentle bow of his head to the Fukurodani Ruler. Given some more time together, he thought maybe Kuroo and Bokuto could become quite chummy, but as it was they bickered ceaselessly.

"Such hot-blooded guardians between the pair of you," Daishou smirked. "Mammals do get so worked up. But that _is_ a part of their charm."

"Birds aren't technically mammals," Akaashi corrected. "Though closer to them than reptiles, perhaps. Where are _your_ guardians tonight, Lord Daishou?"

"I'm afraid they are a bit _cold_ … frivolities such as these don't interest them in the slightest. And seeing as it is a festival, I was assured there'd be no danger even traveling without them." Daishou hissed softly, his tongue flickering out between his long, thin lips. "Though clearly you've seen far more danger than I, Lord Akaashi; are you sure you are content to keep the one guardian in your service? I would think you'd execute him for his failures and instill two new ones to protect you."

"As I said, we share more in common with mammals," Akaashi replied with a frigid smile. "I'd never do something so _cold-blooded_ to an owl who's sworn his life to protect me."

"Punishing failure is only natural," Daishou countered with a nonchalant shrug, overlooking the veiled snub. "My wish is that your guardians _never_ fail you, Lord Kenma." He placed his long, scaled fingers atop Kenma's on the table and winked at Kuroo when he caught the guardian's eye. "Long may you reign."

Kuroo felt his hair stand on edge, pupils dilating dangerously at the sight of Daishou touching Kenma so casually. Blasted snakes…

"Now that's a scary face," Bokuto poked Kuroo's cheek, then withdrew his finger hastily as Kuroo nearly bit his finger off in retaliation—those fangs looked frightfully sharp.

"You had a face just like it not too long ago, Bokuto!" Lev cried, still a bit traumatized from having been on the receiving end of it.

"But your fellow guardian's got murder in his eyes."

"He's touching Kenma with his disgusting scales." Kuroo growled.

"Kenma's allowed to be touched. You don't mind when Akaashi does it—"

"He does mind when _I_ do it—" Lev added.

"Snakes are different. They're treacherous and deceitful. I don't think they're capable of feeling any real affection—and I'm certain Nohebi had something to do with how Kenma's predecessor died."

"Please don't say that so loudly," Lev whispered. "That's only inviting trouble."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, Lev," Bokuto smirked, preening. "I think it's just pure and simple jealousy talking."

Kuroo turned his irritated snarl to Bokuto, snapping his fangs at him again in warning. They didn't know each other well enough for such jests between them, and Kuroo was _not_ fond of the idea that the horned owl could be that perceptive of his feelings. But the only thing that could remove the displeasure from the guardian's face was when his eyes met Kenma's across the banquet hall, and the amber orbs stared at him with a look that clearly pleaded, _Daishou makes me really uncomfortable, save me, Kuroo._ It was a look Kenma sometimes gave him during _glarings_ where the Magisters were being difficult. To this, the black panther could only reply with a familiar, reassuring smile. _Endure it, Kenma. We all have to do our duty._

Indeed, the feast came to an end only minutes later, when Magister Nekomata called everyone's attention to him and led them all to the ballroom for music and dancing.

Lev was excited for the change of pace—he loved to dance. His ears were twitching atop his head and his tail furled and unfurled repeatedly.

"I usually dance with Alisa most of the time, I wish she had come tonight…" he mumbled as they entered the ballroom. The guardians were the last ones to enter behind their lords. "But maybe my dance card will be full anyway?"

"You're a guardian, Lev, however incompetent. At least a few young cats will want to dance with you." Kuroo sighed, pulling at his hair.

Strictly speaking, the guardians weren't at all required to dance, but not to do so would reflect poorly on themselves and the Ruler they protected. Kuroo heard what the common tomcat said about Kenma. Those who adored him called him quiet and enigmatic; those who didn't know what to make of him called him aloof and unsociable. If his guardians were similarly distant, it cast an icy air upon the entire sovereignty. So despite his disinterest, Kuroo would dance with every request that came his way—and there were plenty that lined up to do so, even if he was known as a ruthless killer from his army days.

Kenma, even if he would refuse most of the requests for the evening, did his duty by at least dancing with the first few requests on his dance card, since they were always reserved for the most prominent members of the court. To turn down the highest born aristo _cats_ would be considered an extreme indignity, and Kenma needed many allies in the early years of his reign; Cats were so very fickle. Even with his sworn Magisters and Council, Kenma had to play his cards carefully in order to please them. Only Magisters Naoi and Nekomata's were subject to the full brunt of Kenma's puerility, since they had practically helped raise him—he need never doubt their loyalty.

When the orchestra struck up the first song, the ballroom was soon full of swirling colors and happy chattering. Despite his worries, Lev's first dance was promised to a young Akane, a sister to a fellow soldier from Lev's regiment from his days as a common soldier. Even Akaashi entertained the first few requests that came his way, and Kenma refused a later dance with Daishou, claiming he was tired and dizzy. Perhaps the most surprising development was that not only was Bokuto's dance card completely full of requests, but there were quite a few admirers who refused to dance with anyone else not the owl—it seemed many coveted a chance to dance and converse with the one guardian of Fukurodani… Nekoma didn't receive very many winged guests.

Kenma and Akaashi spent much of their time removed from the dance floor with one another, watching their guardians move about on the ballroom floor.

"I'll be glad to return the favor of your hospitality soon when you come to Fukurodani for your combat training," Akaashi said to Kenma as the fifth long waltz was concluded, an upbeat foxtrot soon to follow. "Though I can't promise it'll be as festive as all this. I'm glad Bokuto's enjoying himself here since he rarely gets a chance back home."

"I don't… much like parties myself," Kenma admitted quietly, fidgeting with his hair. "If it weren't for the Magisters, I'd probably never have them. But the kingdom likes them. So does Lev."

"And Kuroo?"

Kenma's eyes found the dark figure of his friend on the dance floor almost immediately—it was always easy to find one another—and watched as he smiled and chatted with the young lady he held between his arms, leading her gracefully through the dance. Kuroo was sociable where Kenma was not, and the young Ruler disliked that his guardian could smile so easily at others.

"I think he enjoys himself at them," Kenma murmured. "And everyone else loves him too." He added bitterly, trying not to scowl.

"Does that displease you?" Akaashi pressed.

"Ah… Um… N-not—"

"My Lord Kenma!" Daishou approached them then, swaying slowly off the dance floor. "The evening's been most diverting, I thank you for the invite. But since I must return to Nohebi tonight, I'm afraid now is the hour of my departure."

"Thank you for attending tonight," Kenma bowed his head courteously and hoped his relief didn't show too plainly on his features.

"If only we could have shared just one dance…" the snake Lord hissed wistfully, but he courteously bowed low at the waist, taking Kenma's hand in his own to lay a cold kiss upon it.

It sent an unpleasant shiver up Kenma's spine, and across the ballroom, a young lady mewled in pain as Kuroo stepped roughly on her poor paws and crushed her poor hands in his grip.

"Oh, I'm—I'm very sorry…" Kuroo stammered to the poor thing though his eyes continuously flicked over to where Kenma stood, his attention far more focused on his lord than on the lady.

Daishou Suguru caught one of his fervid glances and smiled long and wide before excusing himself and exiting the ballroom.

"I'm… I'm so sorry—could you excuse me?" Kuroo swiftly abandoned the dance, following after the serpent Ruler out of the ballroom and down the palace corridors.

Quietly blending into the shadows, Kuroo trailed him, keeping several paces behind, his body on high alert. He didn't believe for a single moment that Daishou Suguru had traveled all this way without his guardians to accompany him. Kuroo fully expected an ambush, maybe a trap… Maybe he'd find them both lurking somewhere in the castle. Or he might catch a rendezvous of them with their lord, sinister plots hissed between them… But contrary to all his suspicions, Kuroo watched as Daishou merely boarded a coach that whisked him away on the swiftest road out of the kingdom. He might have followed, just to make sure that Daishou left Nekoma completely without incident, but he felt Kenma pull along their connection, reaching for him. So he watched the coach drive on until it was out of sight, then he returned to the ball.

Kenma was waiting with furrowed brows and that little pout on his lips Kuroo usually loved. Usually.

"Apologies, my lord," Kuroo said, bowing his head. In front of the royal court and certainly in the presence of another Ruler, Kuroo always maintained formalities, no matter how much Kenma insisted to the contrary. "I wanted to check on something regarding perimeter safety…"

"That's what the palace guards are for." Kenma said crossly.

"I understand that—"

"You're not supposed to leave my side."

 _Ah_ , Kuroo thought to himself. Kenma had fallen into one of his grumpy moods.

Akaashi found the tense silence between them an excellent opportunity to excuse himself—for refreshments—and left them be, turning his attentions toward Bokuto and his gaggle of new adoring fans.

"My lord—" Kuroo tried to remain civil. He could plainly see Kenma was upset with him for whatever reason, but the grand ballroom wasn't the best place to have one of their kitten spats.

"Don't call me that." Kenma could feel a heat rising to his ears, his tail bristling. He wasn't even sure why he was upset really—he knew deep down Kuroo was only trying to do his job… but it was a job Kenma had never wanted him to get involved in. When he had been chosen to be the next Ruler, Kuroo had immediately volunteered himself to be a guardian, despite the immense dangers that came with the position and despite Kenma's protests.

Kuroo knew the eyes of the Magisters were on them even if most of the guests were otherwise preoccupied, so he kept his voice low and replied firmly, not as Kenma's guardian, but as his friend.

"Kenma… Now is not the time."

But Kenma was tired and frustrated by feelings he didn't understand, so he stamped his foot and hissed.

"I'm tired," he said petulantly, averting his gaze to the floor. "Tomorrow's going to be a full day; I'm going to bed."

"You have to announce you're leaving." Kuroo reminded him.

"Tell Nekomata to do it."

"Kenma—" Kuroo said a little too loudly. A few heads turned toward them in the room, eyes darting between the two and noticing the growing tension. _Shit._

Magister Naoi ran in to diffuse the situation, announcing Kenma's departure with the promise of an even grander celebration for the following day. He carefully mentioned that their Ruler would require much rest for what was to come, but assured the guests that they were free to enjoy the night for however long they wished. Kuroo accompanied Kenma as he hurriedly left the ballroom, nipping at his heels, and Lev caught up to them soon after. The young guardian was undoubtedly confused by their sudden flight, but didn't ask questions. Once Kenma was sound asleep, Kuroo had every intention of letting Lev return to the party. Too often the young lion got caught up in the crossfire of their arguments.

Kenma slammed the doors to his bedchambers, leaving his guardians outside, and tore off his cloak and ceremonial dressings. He kicked off his spats, ripped off his tassels and charms, and flung himself into his bed, burying his face into his pillows. He had stormed out like a kitten, and he knew he was going to have to apologize tomorrow to the Magisters, to Akaashi and Bokuto, even Lev. He'd have to apologize to Kuroo too, but… but this was all Kuroo's fault to begin with! Because he was too charming, too handsome, too kind… Would it have killed him to sit out for a dance or two? And then running after danger like that—nobody trusted Daishou, even the Magisters had warned the palace guard to be wary of him—he didn't even take Lev! And Kenma could never forgive himself if Kuroo got seriously hurt trying to protect him.

After years of always being together, practically joined at the hip, they became bonded to each other as Ruler and guardian—a deep magical connection based on loyalty and devotion—yet all it had done was push them farther apart with Kuroo seemingly doing everything in his power to keep Kenma an arm's length away. All because of rules and social decorum… because Kenma becoming Ruler somehow changed him. He tried his best to remember the simpler times, back when they would spend lazy hours in the apple orchard or basking in the sun by the river. In those days, Kuroo never looked at him with the melancholy that sometimes clouded his eyes now. Kenma shut his eyes, willing himself to sleep with the pleasant memories of times gone by.

Never let the sun go down on your anger.

Kenma couldn't remember where he had heard the saying; Maybe from a lesson in school, or maybe it had been one of the few words his mother had left him. Whatever the source, the proverb was ringing annoyingly in his mind as he was made ready for the festival in the morning. After a troubled night's sleep, he wanted to talk to Kuroo about the previous night, but there was simply no time.

He was woken by his chamber attendants early for grooming and dressing. Kuroo and Lev were apparently being prepared in a separate room. His tail was brushed a hundred times over until the fur gleamed in the light, the hair on his head gently curled into cascading waves that fell about his face. They trimmed his claws and painted them gold and applied shimmering powders to his face and shining glosses to his lips. Kenma felt caked in it all and only felt a little better about it when they told him that the guardians were receiving similar grooming, albeit not as much. Once he was perfumed and adorned in all the fine regalia the royal tailor had prepared, he met with his guardians in the audience chamber of the principal floor where two royal palanquins awaited to bear them out of the palace and into the city. Akaashi and Bokuto were seated in one, Kenma would be seated in the other with Kuroo and Lev on either side.

They all looked rather decorated, Kenma thought, even Akaashi had clearly come prepared with the formal attire customary to his kingdom, but he wasn't given long to look. The second he entered, the entire hall bent low to their knees, and he felt himself blushing furiously. Several members of the court gasped and gushed about how magnificent he appeared as he walked past them. Several more shouted for his long and prosperous reign. When he reached his palanquin, Kuroo rose at last to greet him, the shock in his eyes so evident Kenma's heart raced.

"You're breathtaking," Kuroo whispered, hand over his heart, almost purring.

 _That's not fair_ , Kenma thought to himself. Having Kuroo say such things to him with that face took Kenma's own breath away and that was before he got a chance to admire everything else about his guardian. His lip quivered as his ears twitched in embarrassment, and he said nothing, merely waited until Kuroo held out his hand to help Kenma up into the open palanquin.

Once Kenma was seated, Kuroo and Lev boarded and took their places beside him. Once the Magisters were mounted on their lionesses, the royal convoy took off from the palace, proceeding slowly from the palace gates down the winding roads of Bast's hill, where the citizenry lined the streets, cheering with delight. The procession would loop around the base of Bast's hill, then travel down all the major roads of the city with music, dancing, and free-flowing wine to follow in their wake. By noon, they would arrive at the Cheshire Amphitheater, where they would bear witness to plays, games, concerts, and other entertainment in honor of the day. But the royal parade was a chance for every feline in the city to lay eyes on their Ruler if even for a brief, passing moment, and it was a time-honored tradition.

Kenma did his best to smile and wave throughout—he was supposed to take this opportunity to gaze upon his subjects and remember that everything he did as Ruler was in service of his realm, but his eyes were repeatedly drawn to the dark guardian by his side. Kuroo and Lev both were clad in jet black armor, freshly polished and embossed with varying designs. It was ceremonial, never worn in the line of duty, but it certainly made them look intimidating with its pointed pauldrons and sharp edges. Kuroo's naturally wild hair had been styled with additional spikes, the corners of his eyes painted with red. Even his claws had been painted black. Lev's hair in contrast had been combed to smooth perfection, neatly tucked out of his face. His eyes too had been painted red, but it seemed his dressers also managed to get some gloss onto his lips where they had failed with Kuroo. It surprised Kenma to see such a serious expression on Lev's face since the young guardian spent most of his time smiling stupidly and generally being a clumsy fool. Honestly, they both appeared stunning; Kenma fully understood why all the females swooned when looking at them. But at least during the procession, Kuroo wasn't obligated to dance with any of his admirers.

"Kenma looks quite beautiful today," Akaashi murmured quietly to Bokuto in their palanquin. "And it seems his public adores him."

"Your public adores you too, my lord," Bokuto insisted. "If we held a similar celebration, they'd fly out in swarms to see you."

"Thank you for saying so." Akaashi smiled gently; he knew Bokuto spoke truly.

But a public celebration for the crown would require Bokuto to be present beside him before their citizens, and many no longer considered the great horned owl fit to be a guardian. Akaashi's lost wing was Bokuto's greatest disgrace, and his subjects had few qualms whispering about it _ad nauseam_. At the very least, they insisted upon a second guardian for their liege, but their complaints fell on deaf ears.

"It's me they'd chuck pebbles at…" Bokuto muttered shamefully, bowing his head low.

"Their opinion means little, Bokuto." Akaashi reassured him with a smile. "I decide my guardians, and I have chosen you. I intend to keep you, whatever they say."

"M-my lord…" Bokuto sniffed, eyes filling immediately with tears.

His crown was as much a means of keeping Bokuto close to him as it was a means to rule. Selfish, he knew… but he suspected that Kenma also knew something about selfishness with regards to his guardians. He could see how the young cat's eyes repeatedly flickered over to his dark protector in the palanquin that drove beside theirs. Of course their lives were devoted to duty and honor, but if they couldn't retain _some_ personal pleasures, nobody would ever want to be Ruler.

As the parade made its way from Bast's Hill through the tourist districts, Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse, the crowds growing thicker and more animated as they neared the city center, two members of the throng watched intently for the procession, making light conversation with the locals.

"So what happens after the parade then?" one hissed nonchalantly, licking lazily at his iced cream. It was a delicacy they didn't have in Nohebi, and he had grown rather fond of it.

"They'll have games and music and shows in the Cheshire Amphitheater—tickets sold out weeks ago though if you were hoping to get in, sorry fellas."

"Oh that's no trouble… as long as the parade isn't our only chance to see the Ruler." The other sighed wistfully.

"The evening festival down in the Bay is the whole point," the local shopkeeper insisted. "the Viverrini put on a boat show, and the Ruler himself will do a ritual dance… and then there are the fireworks!"

"Oooh… ending the night with a bang!"

"Just beforehand, I think he has to purify himself alone at the Sekhmet Shrine… but they block off the crowds from getting too close there."

"Oh what a shame…"

"Well you can't just follow the Ruler around all day, there are plenty of other things to see and do during the Festival! I'd actually recommend—"

"Here he comes!" cried out a voice in the crowd.

"I can see the parade!" chimed another.

And then the mob milled and shoved them every which way as the procession drew near, and the two snakes huddled close, their eyes drawn immediately to the fair cat seated high in the large crimson palanquin between two rather intimidating guardians.

"He isss quite the beauty, rather…" one hissed quietly to his companion.

"If he's removed from his guardians for the purification…"

"That's when we'll ssseize our chance."

Before the palanquins passed them by, the two slithered away from the crowd, quietly slipping away to lie in wait at the shrine. Locals were always so helpful about these things.

After nearly an hour of parading around the city, and after seeing Bokuto and Akaashi chatting out of the corner of his eye, Kenma bit his lip and sighed a little. The Magisters never said he couldn't talk during the procession. Soon they'd be coming up on the amphitheater, and then he'd be allowed to relax a little. He'd watch the shows from a special seating area reserved for himself and his guests, and the crowd would have their eyes on the spectacle, not him. Being the center of attention was his least favorite thing in all the world.

"How much longer?" he asked softly, startling his guardians with the sudden inquiry.

Lev looked around their current area of town and glanced at a passing clock before answering,

"Maybe another half hour?"

"All right…" Kenma replied as Lev turned to face forward again, eyes fixed on the waving spectators.

Another few minutes passed by in stifling silence before Kenma attempted conversation again.

"What shows do you think we'll see?"

Again, it was Lev who answered him with Kuroo still sitting in silence—probably still upset about his outburst the previous night.

"Alisa mentioned something about an opera… The Tragedy of Simba, Prince of Pride Rock. At least, I think she said it was an opera, it might just be a play. She read it to me once when I was younger, but I didn't really understand it."

Kenma had read it, in fact, and he knew Kuroo had too, but the older guardian sat staring resolutely ahead, refusing to indulge in the conversation even a little. _Stingy_ , Kenma thought. Normally he was the one who sat in silence. Well, when in doubt… misbehave, he supposed.

"I've read it. Kuroo read it with me when we were younger. We used to pretend I was Simba and he was Nala—"

"It was definitely the other way around!" Kuroo hissed, turning a frightful glare upon Lev who had started choking on his own laughter.

"It's your word against mine, Kuro," Kenma sneered. "And I'm your Ruler, so…"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him, baring a fanged smile that sent a slight shiver down Kenma's spine.

"Well if we're sharing stories, should I tell Lev about how you used to hide from our tutors by climbing up the trees in the apple orchard and then getting stuck there?"

A furious blush crept up Kenma's features, as Lev (very loudly) _awwww'd_ at the revelation, turning affectionate eyes to his liege.

"If I'd found you as a kitten stuck in a tree, I'd have helped get you down, my lord!" Lev gushed, a slight blush adorning his features.

"You're younger than our esteemed Ruler, Lev—I don't think you were this monstrously tall as a cub, were you?"

"E-enough!" Kenma stammered, huffing and trying to calm the heat in his cheeks. He should have known better. Teasing Kuroo usually backfired on him somehow.

But when Kuroo laughed aloud, his eyes crinkling and his fangs glimmering in the sunlight, Kenma felt his heart pick up a rapid pace again, the pink returning to his cheeks with a vengeance. _No fair_ , he thought again. Kuroo didn't even have to say anything to agitate him.

The three spent the rest of the procession in quiet conversation, the tension finally dissipating from the night before. Lev was the most chatty, and he went on and on about whatever topic caught his fancy, though over half of his topics were hearsay from his older sister. When he became engrossed in a dramatic reenactment of a nasty encounter with a pair of Siamese twins… Kuroo caught Kenma staring at him and, after a little bit of blushing and nervous fidgeting, they both smiled affectionately at one another—their first of the long day.

Kuroo mouthed a silent, ' _I'm sorry'_ at him and Kenma mouthed back a voiceless, ' _Me too.'_

He had to hand it to his Magisters—stuffy as they were in all other aspects of palace life—they did know how to put on a show. Between them and the wealthier members of the royal court, no less than one opera, two concerts, a traveling gymnastic circus, and an athletics contest had been sponsored. From up in their special seats, the members of the Court dined lightly on endless hors d'oeuvres, and drank deep of fine vintage wines. Kenma's cheeks were flushed from drink, his stomach full and happy as he watched the current spectacle: an example display of a sport brought to them from a faraway kingdom, in which players rallied a small white ball across a wide net that divided the playing field. The finer points of the rules were lost on him, but he found it no less fascinating to watch. It pleased him too to see Kuroo and Lev so engrossed in the match—he loved watching Kuroo get excited about things, it so rarely happened anymore.

"The way they spike the ball over the net is just so amazing!" Lev was shouting, long arms waving frantically, mimicking the players' motions. "What a satisfying way to score a point!"

"No, it's all about defense—the same in battle! Those well-timed blocks are the real highlight plays." Kuroo was watching with fangs bared, jaws snapping occasionally when something impressed him.

"This would all be much more intense if it were held in mid-air!" Bokuto pondered, his feathers rustling.

"No no no, that takes the challenge out of it," Kuroo argued. "With wings in mid-air, you don't have to worry nearly as much about the timing of the jumps, and no matter a player's athleticism, they could always get to a high point to strike the ball."

"I'm sure the rules could be adjusted a little…" Bokuto grumbled.

"Then it wouldn't be what we're watching. Little point to that—" Kuroo countered.

"No wonder you're a fan of _blocking_ …" the owl huffed, crossing his arms with pouting lips. The panther knew just how to impede his every attempt at fun.

"Are we to never hear the end of your lovers' quarrels?" Akaashi chided, smiling at the delightful giggle that erupted from Kenma at his words.

"Please, don't even jest!" Kuroo scowled, turning his back to the owl guardian with a dismissive flick of his tail.

"Kenma—my lord, would you play?" Lev asked suddenly.

"…I suppose… I could?" He replied tentatively, surprising no one more than himself. Everyone knew Kenma hated exerting himself in physical activities.

"You could be the one who tosses the ball to us!" Lev chirped, his smile growing wider and wider as his liege seemed to actually consider the possibility.

"Could you imagine such a game growing popular in the royal court?" Magister Naoi laughed, though he was also enjoying the match immensely.

"I could think of several tomcats who'd love to give it a go," Magister Nekomata chuckled, taking a deep swig of his wine. "Colonel Taketora would pounce on the opportunity undoubtedly, and then his whole regiment would follow."

"That would be a sight…" Kuroo smirked. "I'm sure the Colonel would be much like Lev, wholly focused on aggressive spiking."

"I'd love to play a match against the Colonel!" Lev declared, then turned his pleading eyes to Kenma. "What say you, my lord? Let's introduce this… um…" he was bad with names when sober, the wine didn't help.

"Volleyball?" Akaashi supplied.

"Yes! Let's introduce it to the stiffs in the palace!"

"It makes no difference to me," Kenma shrugged. "I'm sure the sport will grow popular even among the alley-cats judging by how excited this crowd is."

"Having said that, you are aware that you're now obligated to join in, _my lord_?" Kuroo sneered, his clawed fingers tapping away at his chin.

"Is that a challenge, Kuro?" Kenma teased, eyes half-lidded and a mischievous smirk playing upon his features.

Much taken aback by Kenma's sudden boldness, a sudden flush came unbidden to the guardian's cheeks and the whole gathering laughed—what on earth did he need to be embarrassed for?

All too soon, the games were at an end. Magister Nekomata gave a final closing speech to the day's events, thanking all the spectators for coming to celebrate their Ruler's coronation. Kenma himself gave a few words of thanks to their audience, and then it was time for all of them to stumble as best they could towards the Shrine for Kenma's purification. Funny, none of them seemed quite so drunk when they were all sitting down, but now that they had to stand and actually walk somewhere, the inebriation was quickly showing—on some more than others. Lev was having trouble walking in straight lines, his body swaying uncontrollably from side to side and his long tail trailing on the floor behind him. Kuroo and Bokuto seemed the most sober with only their excessive volume giving away their impaired senses. Even Akaashi was clinging to Bokuto's arm for stability.

Kenma inevitably fell behind—the weight of his ceremonial robes only further hindering his progress. Kuroo sent Lev and the Magisters on ahead to prepare the palanquins and fell back to keep time with his little lord. Kenma insisted that was unnecessary—if only the hallway would stop twisting, he'd be able to walk just fine. Really, it was the building's fault. He turned to the nearest wall to tell it how rude it was being when his paws tripped over a fold in his cloak and he went tumbling down into Kuroo's ready arms.

"Oops!" Kenma giggled, arms flying up to wrap around Kuroo's neck. "Sorry…" he added in a whisper.

"Don't worry about it," Kuroo assured him gently, adjusting Kenma's body in his arms to help him up. He furrowed his brows when he realized Kenma was no longer in the mood to support his own weight. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"Mmhmm," Kenma mumbled sleepily, drawing closer. "Like you used to."

Kuroo laughed and tucked an arm under Kenma's knees, the other firmly nestled beneath his shoulders, lifting him slowly and carefully up—he wasn't fully sober himself, and the last thing he wanted to do was send them both tumbling down the stairs of the amphitheater. That would be quite the undignified end to an incredibly short reign.

"Well I think it's a little undignified to piggyback you like we used to—plus the armor on my shoulders is a little pokey."

Kenma pouted but relented to being carried bridal-style with little fuss.

"We can't do anything like we used to anymore," he grumbled quietly as he listened to the gentle pitter patter of Kuroo's paws on the stone floor. "I miss it."

"I know," Kuroo replied softly. "I'm sorry."

"There's no going back anymore, is there?" Kenma asked wistfully, his fingers mindlessly fidgeting with the short hairs on the base of Kuroo's neck. The guardian's hair had always been coarse and thick, and it felt solid beneath his fingertips.

"No." came the quiet reply.

"Only forward, right?"

"That's right," Kuroo smiled. He had said those words to Kenma when he had first been chosen for royal examination. _There's no going back now; only forward._

"Okay," Kenma whispered. "Forward then." Then he pulled himself up by his arms and pressed his lips to Kuroo's.

It was an excellent thing Kuroo's body had been battle-trained and knew to withstand sudden shock, otherwise he might have unceremoniously dropped his liege. His—Kenma was his Ruler, his lord, his sovereign and there were only a thousand reasons why Kuroo should not be kissing him right now. But his body had yearned for this, so much it left him aching, and he couldn't resist leaning into the kiss, bringing Kenma closer to him and deepening the pressure between their lips.

When Kenma nibbled on his lower lip and grabbed a fistful of Kuroo's hair with a soft moan, it jolted Kuroo back to his senses, and he pulled away from the kiss. When Kenma whined and tried to bring their mouths back together again, Kuroo turned his head away.

"Kuro—"

"We can't. We shouldn't. We're drunk…"

Kenma furrowed his brows and squirmed in Kuroo's arms, demanding to be let down. The guardian obliged obediently, but Kenma refused to let him go that easily. He kept his arms firmly wrapped around the guardian's neck, keeping their faces close. Kuroo's expression was unreadable—why? Wasn't he just kissing him? Kenma hadn't imagined the way Kuroo's strong arms had drawn them closer and the way his lips had responded to his own.

"Kenma, you're the Ruler. I'm sworn to protect you."

"Is there anywhere it's written that you can't protect me and kiss me at the same time?" Kenma tried to tease, tried to ignore how Kuroo was pushing him away.

"I'm unworthy of you. I always have been, but even more so now that you're—"

"Don't say that."

"We have our respective duties and mine… mine doesn't allow for—"

"You're rejecting me." Kenma felt his body grow cold, his heart sinking.

"My lord—"

"Don't call me that!"

With a swift turn of his heel, Kenma ran hard and fast, his heart pounding his ears. Kuroo wasn't coming after him—the distance between them grew only wider, and tears burned at Kenma's eyes. He came upon the others, the palanquins prepared and ready for departure, glittering and regal, and the weight of his duties came rushing back like a slap to the face.

"Kenma?" Akaashi's voice was the first to reach him, touched with concern. "My lord, what troubles you?" He made to rise from his palanquin, Bokuto swiftly following.

Lev rushed to his side, kneeling and looking up with concern at Kenma's tears, immediately examining his liege for any signs of injury. But that didn't make sense. If Kenma had been injured, Lev would have felt it immediately—he would have known. There was no physical damage here. Only…

"My lord?"

His Magisters followed soon after, Magister Naoi holding out an embroidered handkerchief and frantically asking if he should call upon the doctor.

"It's nothing," Kenma breathed, struggling to catch his breath.

"My lord—" Lev mewled helplessly. "What can I do?"

 _Poor Lev,_ Kenma thought. The boy was trained to deal with combat, not heartbreak. There was nothing he or anyone else could do.

"It's the wine," Kenma sniffed. "It's not sitting well. That's all." He took the handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes, staining the white cloth with the glittering powders of his makeup. "Let's just go."

"Where's Kuroo?" came Bokuto's voice.

At just the mention of his name, Kenma's heart twinged with a dull pain, and he bit his lip.

"He's—"

"Ah, sorry I fell behind!" Kuroo came jogging toward them. "I uh… had to use the facilities."

"Oversharing, Kuroo," Magister Nekomata harrumphed. "Come on then."

He sounded so calm. Kenma hated him for that. Here it took Kenma every ounce of his being to hold back his tears, and Kuroo could convincingly tell everyone he just had to take a piss. Fuming, he boarded his palanquin with Lev's help and sat the rest of the way to the Shrine in silence.

Sekhmet Shrine was a natural wonder, built into nature as opposed to clearing the earth to make room for it. In certain areas of the architecture it was hard to tell where the artificially sculpted stones differed from the natural stones that made the shrine's foundations. A series of caves opened to the sky above, the caverns housed glittering geodes on nearly every wall, and in the deepest winding parts lay a solitary pool of water, pure and shimmering, unnaturally clear and bright. There were traces of sorcery here, left by some ancient power they couldn't quite fathom, and the place had been deemed sacred by the explorers who had stumbled upon it centuries before. The clear round basin, dubbed Sekhmet's Sun for the almost golden light it seemed to emit during the late afternoon, was a place of purification and cleansing.

After reassuring his Magisters and council that he would be fine, really, it had just been the wine… they left him to his ritual solitude.

For several long minutes, Kenma stared at his reflection in the eerily still water. The image that looked back at him was so clear, he could even see the pink tinge around his eyes from his tears. Eventually he unclasped his cloak, letting the heavy velvet brocade fall from his shoulders. Slowly, his limbs moving as if weighted by lead, he unclipped his tasseled epaulettes, unbuckled his silver lion's belt, and kicked off his ornamental greaves. With all his trims and embellishments removed, he felt light, almost weightless. He looked hard at his reflection in the clear pool and muttered to himself,

"Without all that… you don't look so regal. What exactly about you is so special?"

Kenma took up the light changing robe, throwing the cotton over his shoulders before fleeing the cavern. He was no Ruler. He wasn't fit to be one, and he had never once wanted the crown. All his newfound power had only pushed his one and only friend further and further away. Running through the deeper caverns of the shrine, deep into its winding passageways, Kenma fled through a secret entrance into the night.

"It's this way… probably."

"We just came from that way."

"No, I'm sure thisss is the way."

"If you take us straight back to the room with the bizarre carvings on the walls I'll—oh."

The two uninvited guests came upon the open cavern of Sekhmet's Sun and marveled. Even snakes could feel a chill, and they could sense the magic infused into the place. Ancient and layered… and it deemed them unwelcome.

"Look at thisss," the one with black and yellow striped scales on his neck bent down by the pool, poking at the discarded ornaments and cloak.

"What do you suppose… where's the Ruler?" His companion, a taller broader creature whipped his head around him, sniffing the air with his tongue. "He wasss here… Or someone wasss…"

"Well he's not here now," the other shrugged, examining the silver lion's belt. "Maybe he evaporated?"

"That'sss impossible. In any case, he couldn't have known we were coming."

"I say we wait until—"

"You're not supposed to be in here!" A voice shouted at them suddenly, and the two snakes hissed low in irritation. Nothing was quite going as planned. "Where's the Ruler? What have you done?!"

The echoing shouts brought several armed soldiers down on them in an instant, including the raven-clad guardians they had been told to expressly avoid.

"Ack! Shhhhit!"

There was no time or way to plan an escape, their only options were to fight or surrender. The cobra licked his fangs—he had been commanded to avoid fatalities to avoid sparking an international incident, but…

"Do we fight, Hannah?!" His larger companion shouted, and Hannah rolled his eyes into his head. What was even the point of aliases and secrecy if his bumbling python partner couldn't keep his damned mouth shut?

"Hannah?" Kuroo hissed. "I know that name. You're Daishou's guardian. You both are." He was growling low in his throat, his claws stretching out slowly.

The panther guardian was oozing blood-lust, and Hannah brought his hands up instinctively, baring his palms in submission. Surrender it was then. They were no match in direct combat with the ruthless killer guardian of Nekoma. And besides, they hadn't actually done anything wrong and time would soon enough prove it.

"Now now… Hannah's a common name where we're from," the cobra smiled, flicking his forked tongue playfully. "What would Ruler Daishou Suguru's guardians be doing in a place like this? We're just a couple of travelers visiting for the festival, and we got lost in these caverns is all."

Taking the hint, his partner raised his own hands into the air, kneeling in tandem with his companion and clamping his jaws shut.

"Where's Kenma?"

Kuroo stalked nearer to the talkative one, and before the snake could speak its lies, he backhanded him so hard he went crashing to the floor with a sickening thud. A splatter of blood stained the floor of the sacred cavern, and the cobra groaned loudly from the pain. He had little enough patience for snakes and had killed for less. He didn't need to hear any of their reasons or excuses, they only needed to answer his one question.

"Hannah!"

"Kuroo!"

The python was kept in his place by the pointed spears of the guards surrounding him, but Lev was pulling Kuroo back.

"We should take them in for questioning—"

"WHERE'S KENMA?!" Kuroo shook Lev violently off him, nearly throwing the lion to the ground in his rage. He grabbed the collar of the snake's shirt, shaking him hard and roaring.

"Kuroo, not here!" Lev's arms flew around Kuroo's chest, grasping him as tight as he could and trying to pull him back. He wasn't smart, but if these two were in fact Ruler Daishou's guardians, they couldn't slaughter them when they offered themselves up for arrest with no resistance. He knew that much!

The other guards took careful steps back to offer them a wider berth—a lowly foot soldier had no business interfering with the guardians. And none wanted to be in the path of guardian Kuroo's wrath.

"Get off me, Lev—tell me where Kenma is! What did you bastards do?!"

"Kuroo—STOP!" Lev roared, a deep, resounding lion's roar, one that bubbled up from low in his belly and echoed off the walls of the entire cave system, reaching even the ears of their convoy waiting outside.

The soldiers flinched from the noise, the python's hands flying immediately to his head, the low vibrations drumming at the bones in his skull.

It was enough to startle Kuroo out of his frenzy, and he let go of the cobra, panting hard.

"Take them both into custody," he growled at the guards, then shoved past Lev and ran out of the caves, tearing his claws into the stone walls in frustration.

"Kuroo, what's going on—" Magister Nekomata demanded.

"Kenma's missing," he answered hurriedly. "And there are two snakes here from Nohebi… They're guardians to that scum Daishou, I'd bet my nine lives on it!"

"Keep your voice down!" Magister Naoi hissed at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Kenma's gone, and all we found were those two slithering about when we went to go get him. They've been apprehended for questioning—"

"And where do you think you're going?" Nekomata stood in Kuroo's path.

"To look for Kenma!"

"We'll send out search parties, _you_ need to question the prisoners—"

"Like hell I'm going to stay put here when he could be out there in danger!" Kuroo's claws were digging into the flesh of his palms, but he ignored the pain and the blood dripping down from his knuckles. He should have been more alert—he should have followed Daishou that night to make sure he left the kingdom. Who were the guards posted to defend the shrine? Kuroo decided they should all be questioned and flogged for their incompetence.

"Kenma's prone to running away, remember?" Nekomata calmly replied. "This could all just be bad timing."

"Bad timing?!"

"I can help!" Bokuto stepped forward, his wings whipping open. "Eyes on the ground and eyes in the air, and my eyes are great!"

"We couldn't possibly ask you to help with such matters and leave your Ruler unattended—" Naoi began, but Akaashi interrupted him.

"I'm surrounded by the royal guard of Nekoma's high council. Even Bokuto can rest assured I'd be safe here. Please, let him assist you. His eyes are indeed better than most."

"Very well—" the words were scarce out of Naoi's mouth when a sudden rush of wind knocked him back as Bokuto had taken flight, rushing high into the sky.

"He'll check back in every hour," Akaashi assured them. "I've placed a simple tracking enchantment. Hopefully, it won't take that long."

The guards with Lev filed out of the caverns then, the two snakes bound and gagged and stumbling behind them. Lev bounded toward Kuroo, Kenma's cloak clutched between his claws, worry etched all over his young face. Kuroo felt a pang of guilt cut him—in his rage he had forgotten that his younger guardian depended on him almost as much as Kenma did. He had not been setting the best example for his protégé and partner. He knew the poor cub was also worried sick for his liege, but he didn't lose his head back there, and that was indeed praiseworthy.

"Lev, we're going to take them to a nearby detention center for questioning. You're with me."

"And the search?"

"Nekomata and Naoi are arranging it—even Bokuto's helping. They have their jobs. Now we do ours."

It wasn't a pleasant job by any means. Despite being a guardian, Lev didn't quite have the stomach for Kuroo's brand of questioning.

It wasn't the blood, it was the screaming.

"You haven't even asked me a bloody question!" The python hissed as Kuroo toyed with the scale he had just ripped from the snake's neck.

"Didn't I?" Kuroo asked with feigned surprise. "Oh, right. I asked your partner back at the shrine… I guess you didn't hear me."

"I don't know where he isss!"

"Oh, so you did hear me."

"Look, it was just gonna be a bit of fun, all right?"

"What was?" Lev asked.

"Look we—we weren't gonna do anything bad to him, honest! We were under orders not to hurt him and everything!"

"Under orders? Whose orders?" Kuroo pressed, and the python clamped his mouth shut, a nervous furrow growing between his slitted eyes. "Tch!"

Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyance and kicked his prisoner hard in the stomach, sending him flying backwards into the detention wall, splintering the chair he was bound to. The snake groaned and coughed, unable to pull himself to even a crawling position on the floor with his hands still bound behind him.

"We're done here. Bring in his friend." Kuroo waved to a guard standing nearby and wiped at the blood under his claws with a towel.

"I think they genuinely don't know where Kenma is," Lev whispered quietly.

"I think you may be right, but I want to question little Hannah before we run with that hypothesis."

The cobra was brutishly pulled into the room and thrown onto the floor before them, where Kuroo hunched down low to meet him at eye level. He spun the scale taken from the python between his fingers, watching how the dim light in the room made it glimmer just a touch.

"I heard in some kingdoms they trade snake-skin bags and boots… all illegal, of course, but I can sort of see the appeal of it…" Kuroo flicked the scale at Lev, who caught it like a kitten catching a toy. "What do you think, Lev?"

"It _is_ pretty…"

"Look," Hannah started, not one to lose his cool like his partner. "You want the truth? We came here to give Kenma a message from Daishou."

"So you _are_ his guardians."

"I didn't say that."

"My intel tells me that one of his guardians definitely goes by the name of Hannah."

"Hannah can just mean cobra. It's more commonly a nickname. In any case, he sent us to deliver a message, that was all—"

"What sort of message can't be delivered by traditional means? Why not send diplomatic envoys? Why send two, lowlife, slithering scum to sneak up on our Ruler while he's alone and vulnerable?" Kuroo spat.

"You've met Daishou, yesss? He's a flirt and a sssadist. He's quite taken with your little lord, so he sent us to tell him as much." A lecherous grin spread across the cobra's features, and Kuroo swiped his claws across the offensive face, tearing rivets of blood across it. If Hannah hadn't closed his eyes, they'd have no doubt been lost.

"I'm telling you the truth, it's what you asked!" the cobra hissed, writhing and hissing at the stinging pain across his face. "It doesn't even matter now what we were ordered to do, he wasn't there!"

"What do you mean by that?" Lev insisted.

"We waited by the Shrine until the convoy arrived, snuck in around the guards, but we got lossst! Those caves looped around and around in circles, and eventually we found his clothes, they were lying in a heap by the pool, but he wasn't there—he was nowhere in sssight!"

Kuroo listened in calm silence as the cobra hissed and spat, groaning against his bonds and clenching his eyes shut as the blood trickled slowly down his face. The cuts were shallow enough, Kuroo was sure they'd be gone completely after the next couple of times the cobra molted. For now though, he'd be in plenty pain, and the wounds would be undoubtedly annoying as they scabbed over.

"Lev, take care of things here."

"Where are you going, Kuroo?"

"I'm going to go look for Kenma. Tell the Magisters I snuck off so they don't blame you for it."

"Do you know where to look?!" Lev grabbed Kuroo's wrist.

"I have an idea where to start."

"Let me go with you! I'm his guardian too!" The young lion pleaded, growing more agitated the more he was ignored.

"I know. But this was my fault. And I have to take care of it. Feel our bond, Lev. Reach out to him. You know Kenma's not hurt."

"…he's not hurt." Lev repeated meekly, his grip loosening on Kuroo's wrist.

"I'll bring him back." Kuroo promised.

Then he quietly left the detention center through a back exit and sprinted back toward the palace using back roads and forested paths less traveled on—the same roads they had frequented as kittens, when Kenma used to follow Kuroo along by a soft grip on his tail so as to not get lost. Back when they were free to do whatever they wanted and all the world belonged to just them two. Nekomata had been right all along. Kenma ran away all the time; being made royalty didn't change that.

Kuroo traced back familiar steps through the quiet market where they used to bring their royal allowance (aka change they pickpocketed out of Nekomata's trousers) to buy apple tarts from that one baker who always gave Kenma a bigger slice than customary. That old bakery was closed now, the old tomcat had long since passed away and a little café had popped up in its place. Kuroo peeked inside as he passed by, just to be sure, but he knew Kenma wasn't in there.

From the back alleys by Bonfamille Fountain square, Kuroo ran past the river where they used to spend long, hot afternoons sunbathing on its banks. Kuroo used to try and catch the few fish that came upstream, splashing Kenma with his failed attempts in the water. Kenma wasn't here either, of course—he used to hate getting wet, hated how the humidity would fluff up his tail and his hair into an unmanageable wavy mess. The guardian continued on.

Eventually, he came to the high brick walls that made up the perimeter of the palace apple orchard, and with a nimble leap, climbed up to the top before jumping over amongst the trees. When he was smaller, it seemed to him then that the rows of trees would go for miles and miles; they'd run through the columns, weaving in and out of them, circling around the trunks of the bigger ones and eating all the apples that fell out of the trees the pickers wouldn't want. Kuroo always gave the biggest and nicest ones he found to Kenma. Now, he was tall enough to pick one out of the lowest branches just by reaching up with his hand. He picked a nice big juicy one, its skin bright red with a hint of golden yellow around the stem.

A little further on, towards the south end of the palace and near the entrance to the gardens, he found Kenma sitting by the big tree with his knees drawn up to his chest, his white robe filthy and grass-stained, bits of leaves in his hair. He looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and sniffed. Thank goodness he was safe.

"For you," Kuroo offered, holding out the apple. When Kenma took it wordlessly, Kuroo lowered himself onto the grass beside him, grunting as he had to adjust his tail around the pokey bits of his armor.

"You found me." Kenma murmured, cradling the apple in his hands.

"I knew where to look," Kuroo sighed, leaning against the tree trunk. "This used to be our favorite place."

Kenma took a small bite of the apple in his hand. It was good. Ripe and juicy and sweet in his mouth. Kuroo always picked the best ones somehow.

"You ran away again."

"If being Ruler means you can't treat me how you used to, I don't want it. I never _wanted_ it. But you said you'd stay with me, so I agreed but…" Kenma hiccupped, tears welling up in his eyes again. "But now…"

Kuroo turned toward Kenma and wiped the tears that fell down his cheek. Kenma dropped the apple, holding onto Kuroo's hands instead, and quietly sobbed.

"I can't do this without you. I'm scared, I don't know how to be a great Ruler… how am I supposed to know what to do?"

"Kenma, that's why you have a Council—no Ruler ever reigns alone. And you have me too—"

"No I don't," Kenma huffed. "You—"

"I love you," Kuroo interrupted, breathless, grasping Kenma's hands in his own. "I do. So much. For so long, but what can I do? You're the highest being in the land, and I'm just a guardian."

"Kuro—"

"My life is yours, my body, my soul, I'm pledged to you. But it can't go the other way around, you see? I might belong to you, but you belong to the kingdom."

Kenma had to look beyond his own pain to see Kuroo's, a loneliness that had previously been obscured to him. But he saw now how long his dear guardian's weary heart had suffered—maybe even longer than his own. He said it so plainly now, and it was written all over his face, how could Kenma have ever doubted his affections?

"We're bonded as _Ruler_ and _Guardian_ …" Kuroo whispered helplessly, the titles leaving a foul taste on his tongue.

"We were bonded before that," Kenma replied quietly, taking Kuroo's face gently in his hands. "My pain is yours, but yours is also mine, it always has been."

"Kenma…"

Kenma took one of his hands and pressed it to Kuroo's chest, his fingers touching the window of skin there, and said,

"See? I can feel your heartbreak. You can probably feel mine too, right?"

Kuroo closed his eyes and nodded slowly, a small smile creeping to his lips. He repeated Kenma's words back to him with a chuckle.

"That's not how the connection works, remember?"

"Please don't turn me away because of my crown. Or if that's all it is, then let's both run away—I won't have to be Ruler anymore and then you won't have to feel bad about it."

Kuroo let out a throaty chuckle, sniffed, then smiled.

"We can't do that, Kenma. You're a good Ruler, I told you before. Nekoma needs you."

"But I need you."

"You have me," Kuroo whispered, kissing Kenma's cheek as a promise. "You've always had me."

Kenma tentatively pressed their lips together again, testing. When Kuroo didn't pull away, he did it again. And again. And then he flung his arms around his neck and kissed him long and deep, pulling away only momentarily to whisper,

"I can really have you then?"

"I just said—"

But suddenly the trees were rustling violently above them, and Kenma pulled back to see a dark figure falling out of the sky towards them, massive silvery wings beating strongly into the wind and scattering the leaves all around them.

"My lord Kenma! I found you! We've been—oh, Kuroo… um… found you too?"

"Your timing is fantastic," Kuroo muttered under his breath, but Bokuto missed the sarcasm where Kenma giggled at it.

"Everyone will be so relieved to know you're okay! I didn't realize Kuroo had gone looking for you too though… I thought you were questioning—"

"All is well," Kenma said with a smile, his heart lighter than it had been his entire reign. "Let's rejoin the others, and… I know it's late, but…"

"You'll finish the ceremony?" Kuroo asked, incredulously.

"…I learned the dance, after all. After being made to learn it, it'd be a waste to not perform it."

"All riiiight!" Bokuto cackled. "Hop on!"

"Hold on!" Kuroo held up his hand immediately. "Kenma is _not_ going to fly the way there."

"It's perfectly safe!" Bokuto retorted, crossing his arms. "I've only ever dropped… um…?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

On a raised platform above the waters in Bastet Bay, the scenery shimmering with fairy lights twinkling off the ripples in the water, a vision danced to the melody of soft strings. The citizens of Nekoma stood in awe by the shore, entranced by the vision of their young Ruler swaying in the cool evening breeze.

"He's as beautiful as they say…"

"And so elegant!"

"It's almost like magic… Like he's bewitching us."

Kuroo watched Kenma dance and almost forgot to breathe. He'd seen Kenma in rehearsals dozens of times to learn the routine. His liege had learned the basic steps early on, it was only that his dance instructor from then on had wanted him to dance it to perfection since he had the potential to do so. Kuroo had wondered about previous Rulers who came to the throne later in life. He tried to imagine someone like Nekomata being made to do this choreography at his age and gave thanks to the high heavens that he was blessed to watch Kenma dance it instead.

And Kenma really was a marvel. There was a lightness to his steps Kuroo had never seen before tonight, a fluidness to his motions that reminded him of flowing water. Once or twice, he thought he caught Kenma's eyes from across the water and the piercing gaze stopped his heart for several seconds—he was so unbelievably beautiful.

When it was over there was a palpable disappointment in the air even as people clapped and cheered—they all wanted the enchantment to continue forever, but before they could dwell on it too long, the sky lit up with bright fireworks and the music struck up again, louder and more powerful than before.

"How did I do?" Kenma asked breathlessly after descending from the stage. His eyes were bright and shining and looked only at Kuroo.

"You were—" Kuroo started, but was interrupted by everyone all at once.

"You were perfect!" Lev gushed, clinging to Kuroo's arm. "Absolutely fantastic!"

"It was truly a sight to see," Akaashi added. "I feel quite lucky to have been witness to it."

"Brilliant, my lord," Magister Naoi added. "It was like nothing else I've seen."

The din of the fireworks made all their praises sound together, especially as they fought to talk all at the same time or interrupt one another. Aiming for a modicum of peace, they moved away from the shore, leaving the citizens to dance and cheer at the fireworks through the night. For his part, Kenma was ready to return to the palace and fall immediately into his bed. The day had been long and exhausting—and he hadn't had to deal with his attempted kidnapping like the others had.

"All in all, I'd say that was a rather successful festival," Magister Naoi smiled. "Even with the… uh… not-kidnapping."

"What are we to do about them, by the way?" Lev asked. "They said they were under orders from Daishou… this doesn't mean war does it?"

"That's a conversation better saved for the Council, Lev," Magister Nekomata grumbled. The old cat was extremely displeased with that situation—he had been the one to extend the invitation to Daishou in good faith. "Those treacherous snakes…"

"I don't know that it could go to war… Daishou would never admit to sending them, and it's their word against his." Naoi considered.

"We can throw them in the dungeons and let them rot for all he cares," Kuroo growled. "They were never supposed to be caught. If Daishou cares about their release, it brings him under suspicion. And this way, at least those two are kept under lock and key."

"You still think they're his guardians?" Nekomata asked.

"Not sure. But if they are, then Daishou got a good taste of what I'll do when I get my claws on him." Kuroo grinned, licking his fangs. It had pleased him greatly to think their captives could indeed be the guardian's to Nohebi's Ruler—it meant the bastard could feel every ounce of the pain Kuroo had inflicted upon the prisoners.

"Kuroo's right, they were never supposed to be caught," Kenma added at last, silencing all the others. "I don't think even he would risk his guardians on such a frivolous plot… But Daishou is not merciful to those who fail him. He'll be forced to punish them to honor the diplomatic peace between us or appear a scoundrel, and their sentence will be all the harsher if the command was indeed originally his. Sending them back publically is tantamount to a death sentence either way. Let them suffer the justice of their own land, and let Daishou suffer the rumors that are sure to follow him now."

"You mean—"

"We'll draw up the official extradition order in the morning. Tonight…"

The convoy sat in silence a while, shocked by the firmness with which Kenma spoke his commands and the wisdom his words beheld. It was the last thing anyone expected given his usual evasions of responsibility and his earlier stunt of the evening. But they were no doubt the words of a king.

"Your will be done, _O Ruler_." Magister Nekomata said with a genial smile. Kuroo could almost call it proud.

"Spoken justly and with wisdom, my lord." Magister Naoi bowed low.

Whatever doubts his council may have nursed before that night, they were instantly dissipated in the wake of Kenma's firm royal decrees—here at last would be a strong and prosperous reign for their kingdom.

Yet still, Kenma looked to Kuroo and only allowed himself a smile when he saw his guardian nod his head with a proud upturn of his lips, mouthing silently, ' _Good job.'_ Kenma replied with a small grin of his own, his mouth quietly forming the words, ' _Thank you.'_

-notes-

Prionailurus viverrinus is a cat breed commonly known as the fishing cat, so the fisher-cats by trade are called Viverrini.  
Bastet Bay is named after the Egyptian cat goddess Bastet, and Bast's hill is just an alternative name for the same deity.  
Sekhmet Shrine is named after the Egyptian lioness goddess.  
A group of cats is called a _glaring_ or a _clowder_. So the administrative council meetings between the Ruler and his royal council are referred to as a _glaring._ I also couldn't write _clowder_ with a straight face.  
Wikipedia also tells me that female cats are called _queens_ , but I thought that might get a bit confusing.  
Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse are the tourist districts of Nekoma for shopping, music & entertainment, and restaurants respectively. They're named after the 3 kittens from the Aristocats movie.  
The Lion King movie is basically Hamlet, and the full title of Hamlet is "The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark" so I just switched the names to be about lions. Are you tired of the cat jokes yet?  
Ophiophagus hannah is the scientific name for a King Cobra.

I was very excited to be allowed to write a story for mookie's beautiful artwork, and it was an interesting challenge for me to try and write for a universe that wasn't already all in my head. I'm sure she grew at least a little tired of all my questions, but she was nothing but patient with me and gracious enough to read my drafts. If you haven't already seen her art (which seems impossible honestly), go go go! I hope I did it even a little justice.

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As for me, I'm on tumblr nimbus-cloud and on Twitter Luna_Dreaming and I love love love talking about Haikyuu and Kuroken.


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